By The Way

To all who will be going by the Way
May be remember to stop by for one last time
Some place to rest your souls a while in the warm sunshine
Under the arching boughs of summery forest pine
Where plain plank tables sit with deep root legs sunk in the ground,
Perhaps the ghosts of premonitions shall visit there in passing
Form, the fashion of the hour glass worn out as the moments flashing
Fly for Now and Then for anyone may
To all who will be going, by the Way



Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 620 times
Written on 2019-06-02 at 13:17

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